


Under the Weather

by veronicahague



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Opal gets sick, Post-Canon, Post-The Raven King, Ronan and Adam don't really know what to do because she's a satyr Ronan pulled out his dreams, Sickfic, and she isn't supposed to get hit with something as mundane as the common cold, but like, it's just a cold/flu thing, not in a serious way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:09:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronicahague/pseuds/veronicahague
Summary: Opal gets sick, Ronan panics, and Adam puts the kettle on to make hot toddies for the three of them.





	Under the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another oneshot that's been brewing in my head ever since Maggie gave us that excerpt from the short story that's going to be in the TRK paperback where Opal just loves Adam SO MUCH.
> 
> My eternal gratitude to [burn-it-slow](http://burn-it-slow.tumblr.com) <3

“Parrish, wake up.”

Adam grumbles and rolls over, pulling a pillow over his head.

“Adam.” It’s not that Ronan never uses his first name, it’s just that he rarely uses it so seriously.

Adam rolls back over.

“What?”

Ronan looks worried and Adam immediately starts looking around the room for wayward dream creatures or any night horrors he might have brought back with him.

Ronan puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder to ground him. “No, it’s not that.” He pauses, looking uncertain. “Opal’s sick and I don’t know what to do.”

Any lingering traces of sleepiness fall away instantly as Adam bolts out of bed, walking the well traveled path between Ronan’s room and Opal’s.

She’s buried under a mountain of blankets, her little face drawn and sad looking for where it pokes out under the comforters.

“Kerah?” She mumbles, her voice pitiful and scratchy enough to break Adam’s heart on the spot.

“What hurts?” Adam asks softly as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Adam,” She says with a tiny smile in her voice. She lets out a hacking cough a moment later and Adam rubs a gentle hand up and down her back.

“Everything.” She mumbles.

“Hmmm?”

“You asked what hurts,” Opal says. “Everything.”

Ronan, who’d been leaning against the doorframe, leaves his post and kneels beside her next to the bed and exchanges a worried look with Adam.

“Should we call Fox Way?” Adam asks.

“No point, not yet anyway. All they’ll do is offer her some gross fucking tea that’s supposed to boost her immune system.”

“That we’re not even sure she has,” Adam adds on, catching onto Ronan’s train of thought.

“Exactly. She eats twigs and leaves and shit and they don’t seem to hurt her.” Ronan sighs. “I don’t even know if she has any internal organs.”

“So how did she get sick?” Adam wonders aloud. Ronan shrugs, his eyebrows pinched with concern and pulling even closer together than they’ve been all night.

Opal lets out another hacking cough, the pile of blankets she’s buried under shaking.

Adam runs a hand over her forehead. “She doesn’t have a fever, at least.”

Ronan nods. “That’s good, right?”

Adam shrugs. “I mean normally, yeah, but I don’t think normal applies here.”

Ronan buries his head in his hands and Opal sticks a tentative finger out to poke at him.

“It’s okay, Kerah. I’ll feel better soon.”

Ronan looks up, his eyes wide. “How do you know that?”

Opal shrugs.

Ronan and Adam exchange another look. Adam wants to laugh but he’s not sure it’s appropriate.

He thinks back to what made him feel better when he’s been sick and turns to Ronan.

“We have lemons, right?”

Ronan’s eyebrows pull together in a frown but he nods slowly. “I think so. Now’s probably not the best time to make a pitcher of lemonade or whatever the fuck you’re thinking of doing.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “I want to make Opal a hot toddy.” Ronan opens his mouth and Adam holds up a hand to stop him. “ _ Without _ the whiskey. Just honey, lemon, and hot water.”

Ronan’s expression relaxes. “Cool. I’ll help.”

 

***

 

“One lemon should be enough, right?” Ronan asks as he leans forward, poking around in the fridge.

“Even half of one should be fine. Unless you want one too?” Adam asks, turning to stare appreciatively at Ronan’s ass at this angle.

Ronan stands up, lemon in hand, and closes the fridge door shut.

“I’m not sick.”

“Nope,” Adam agrees. “But I know you’ve got a weakness for honey.”

Ronan smirks but he doesn’t contradict him. “I’ll cut the lemons if you boil the water.”

Adam nods, pulling the honey out of the cupboard as he makes his way over to the kettle.

“It is weird, right?” Adam can barely hear Ronan’s quiet voice over the sound of the water closest to his good ear. He turns the tap off and turns his body to face his boyfriend.

“Say that again?” Adam asks. Ronan chews on the inside of his lip.

“Opal getting sick. It’s weird. She’s not supposed to get sick.”

Adam joins him in frowning. “What about Matthew?”

Ronan shrugs. “He gets colds and shit too, but I think that’s because I dreamed him to be a normal human boy. Real people get sick so …”

Ronan trails off. Adam chooses not to comment on the ‘real people’ part of that sentence.

“But you didn’t dream Opal.”

Ronan shakes his head. “No. She’s always been there. I took her out but I didn’t fucking … create her … or whatever. She’s always existed, as long as I’ve been dreaming.”

Adam grabs a spoon out of the drawer and twists the lid off the honey jar.

“Is she feeling okay emotionally? Maybe it’s just a physical manifestation of - ”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Freud, because as far as I know she’s been prancing through the fucking fields and having the time of her goddamn life these past few months. I can’t see what could have changed that we wouldn’t have noticed.”

_ We _ . Adam flushes pleasantly a bit at Ronan’s word choice. It’s only been a few months since Gansey was reborn and things went back to normal (well, as normal as things can ever be when your best friend’s life source is a magical forest) but Adam’s been spending more and more time at the Barns and can’t help but refer to it as home, even if only inside his head.

He forces himself to focus on Ronan’s words and realizes quickly that he’s right - there has been no significant or notable change in either Opal’s physical or emotional state. Adam hasn’t been around many half-goat children before, but even he’s noticed how happy and full of joy Opal always seems to be. Maybe her illness really is some sort of weird one-off?

Before Adam can probe that thought further, the kettle clicks off and Ronan makes quick work of splitting the lemon juice he’d squeezed out into three mugs. Adam adds a generous dollop of honey to each before pouring in the water. 

Once everything’s been mixed together, Adam takes his cup and inhales deeply, the sweetly scented steam soothing him.

He grabs the second mug, trailing behind Ronan as they walk back up to Opal’s room.

Opal is now sprawled on her back on top of the blankets rather than underneath them.

“Too warm,” she grumbles, rolling over to look at Adam and Ronan.

“Looks like whatever it was is already passing,” Adam comments. Ronan walks over and sits on Opal’s bed, putting a hand on her forehead.

“Feels normal still.” He meets Opal’s eyes. “Adam made a thing for you, you want it?”

Opal beams and directs her attention fully on Adam. “Yes please. Thank you Adam.”

Adam can’t help but grin as he passes her mug over to her. “You’re welcome Opal. Who taught you to be that polite? I know it wasn’t Ronan.”

Ronan glares and mutters something that’s likely offensive under breath (further proving Adam’s point) while Opal beams. “Calla said I should always say please and thank you.”

Ronan narrows his eyes but refrains from commenting as Opal takes an experimental sip. Adam, knowing how finicky Opal’s rather unconventional palate can be, braces himself for the worst.

His fears are unfounded. Opal beams, the sourness of the lemon and the sweetness of the honey clearly pleasing her greatly.

“I should get sick more often,” she grins, taking another long sip of the toddy. 

“No, you fucking shouldn’t,” Ronan groans, running his hands down his face.

Adam takes a sip of his own drink, quietly enjoying the contrast between Opal’s enthusiastic gulps and Ronan’s silent enjoyment of his own toddy.

Once all three of them have finished up, Adam grabs their mugs and deposits them in the sink to deal with the next morning. When he makes it back upstairs, it’s to see Ronan tucking in Opal (who’s completely passed out and snoring softly).

“Bed?” Adam whispers.

Ronan nods. “Fuck yes.”

 

***

 

The next morning, Adam wakes up to the bed shaking and the sounds of violent coughing coming from beside him.

He rolls over to see Ronan groaning miserably, his arm thrown over his face to block out the daylight.

Adam hears the clomping of hooves and looks up to see Opal standing in the doorway, a guilty look on her face.

“Kerah is sick?”

Adam nods, running a gentle hand over Ronan’s forehead. He, unfortunately,  _ does _ seem to be running a fever.

Adam sighs and pulls Ronan’s arm away from his face. “What can I do to help you feel better?”

“Hot toddy,” Ronan grunts. “But  _ with _ the whiskey this time”.

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is going to be the last short little oneshot I post for a while because I am going to do my best to focus on something a little bit longer (the goal is 10k but we shall see if I can think of an idea I can drag out for that many words).
> 
> I'm over at [saintagnesparrish](http://saintagnesparrish.tumblr.com) where i'll also be posting [this fic](http://saintagnesparrish.tumblr.com/post/160500293036/pynch-oneshot-where-opal-gets-sick-ronan-gets) (and where i've posted my other oneshots as well).
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and i'd love to know what your headcanons are for Opal's mystery illness if you have them ;)


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